The Sun Will Rise and We Will Try Again
by narcoticsweettalks
Summary: After breaking up with Brad, Patrick is lost in a haze even he cannot understand. He numbs his pain with cheap liquor in the arms of strange men and waits until sunrise to let himself feel anything other than their touch. That is, until a brief intervention with Sam steers him straight. What will become of the heartbroken boy now?


After Brad, everything felt hazy. After Brad, Patrick was determined to numb everything and keep it that way. He delved into a world of one night stands with guys he met at Schenley Park, getting high with them in the seedy motel rooms and in the back of Sam's pickup truck. He drank until he became familiar with the back of his eyelids. He sought comfort in the arms of strange men. He hated the feeling they left in the pit of his stomach as he climaxed, but he let them touch him anyway. He knew Sam would kill him if she found another bottle of Jack in her front seat.

But he didn't care. He didn't like who he was becoming, but he didn't care. He waited until morning to trudge up the steps, waited until he puked up what would have been an even more terrible hangover to sneak in the house. He crept through the halls and up the steps into his room, praying that no one would hear, but of course Sam did. She stayed up all hours of the night, staring at the ceiling and holding her breath until she heard her brother walk in. She didn't say anything, though, didn't call attention to herself. She just stayed there, staying still, and listened to Patrick go up to his room, get into bed, and cry himself hoarse. She knew that wasn't just his morning voice.

Until, eventually, she had had enough. It was a Saturday, and just before six in the morning when Patrick rolled up in her truck. She got up when she heard the car door slam and crossed over to her window, watching as her step-brother let walked up the porch steps. She sighed and moved to the hallway, waiting until he hit the base of the stairs to make herself known. "This isn't healthy, you know."

Patrick looked up at her, a little caught off guard, and sighed, stopping where he was. He shook his head and hoped that she couldn't see the tears welling up in his eyes, even though it was clear that she could. He couldn't hide from her.

"S-Sam, stop, not now. Please?" He pleaded, sniffing. "No, Patrick. We have to talk about this. You can't bottle this up forever; it'll kill you. It's killing _me _to see my own brother like this. Come on, Patrick. Let me in." He bit his lip and shook his head. "I don't know if I can."

The emotion in his voice was evident, no matter how hard he tried to choke it down. Something hitched in his chest, breathing stuttering for the minutest of seconds, and he was gone. First it was a tear rolling down his cheek to full-on sobbing. He met Sam at the top of the stairs and let himself fall into her embrace. He buried his face into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him and held him close, hushing him soothingly. "Patrick, shh, you have to be quiet. We can't wake mom and dad. Okay?" She whispered, rubbing his back. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he cried, tone hushed. His voice sounded mewling and pathetic; completely unlike him.

"Don't be sorry, Patrick, just be quiet. Come on, let's go to your room, okay?"

He nodded, and let her half-carry, half-drag him to his bedroom. She led him to his bed and he crawled in under the covers, burying his face with his pillow to shield his sensitive eyes from the harsh light streaming in from the window above his bed. The sun was coming up now. "Can you close the window?" He mumbled. "I don't know, maybe I shouldn't. I wasn't the one who got drunk and hooked up with random guys," she teased, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "Yeah, you were, actually," Patrick retorted, sniffling. "Wow, low blow, buddy. Look, can we please just talk about this? I'm worried about you…. We all are. Please?"

Patrick sighed. _"Fine. _Just close the damn blinds, would you?" Sam rolled her eyes. "Okay, your highness. Jesus." She got up and pulled the strings, dropping the blinds with a light thunk as they hit the window sill. "Alright, it's your turn; talk." She pulled the pillow away from Patrick's head. Patrick groaned but did as he was told anyway.

"Okay… I hate him. And I hate me because I love him so much and I can't fucking _stop _loving him and I _want _to because I know he doesn't love me….a-and he never really did. And maybe I understand why he kept getting drunk when we were together because now I just want to forget everything about this and I hate being here alone without him and oh my god I just want him _back._ I can't do this without him, Sam. I want to _die_."

Sam bit her lip and looked down at him sadly. "No you don't," She stated, softly, "You're heartbroken, but you don't want to die. Trust me."

"Sam, _please, _just tell me what to do."

"Fine. Well, first of all, I think you should stop hooking up with random guys and going to Schenley every night to get drunk. We need you here are home," she started. "Second of all, you can't just forget him. You don't hate him, either. You still love him, and that's the bad part. But you're going to move on, Patrick. Things are going to be okay. You can't let something Brad can't even control get in the way of your happiness forever. Mourn now. Live later. The world can wait, but not until it stops."

"But I want him back, Sam. I want him back."

"I know, but you need to do what's best for the both of you. And this looks like this is it. I think he did love you. He still does. But you both have to move on. "

"But what if it isn't for the best?"

"Well, think about it. Were you happy with him? Why?"

"Of course I was, Sam. And… And I don't know… I just. I liked the way we fit. I like how he would rub my back when we would kiss and tell me I was perfect. He made me feel special. God, is this supposed to make me feel any better?" Patrick questioned, an annoyed look now on his face.

"Just wait. Okay, so he made you feel special. But did you see anything past high school with him? Did you see the two of you being together when you both went away to college? Did you ever talk about that? God, did you even talk about _anything _substantial?" 

"Of course we talked about life after high school. We were going to go to school and try long distance."

"Did you consider how things would play out?"

Patrick thought about this for a moment. "Well, uh, no. Not really."

"How much did you tell him about you? Because I'm pretty sure Charlie knows more about you than Brad does."

"Don't bring Charlie into this."

"I'm just saying."

"Well… I don't know. He knows a lot. But…"

"But?"

"But. He just. When I wanted to talk, he didn't really listen. I think he just wanted to kiss me and hold hands. I don't know if that's all a relationship is supposed to be about."

"It's not, Patrick. You keep telling me not to make myself small. You need to learn to follow your own advice."

"…."

"I'll leave you alone now. Get some rest. And I had better not find any liquor in my car."

"Then don't look."

"Whatever."

Sam stood up and walked over to the door. She opened it, and just before she left, Patrick called out to her. "Sam, wait. Please?"

She turned and faced him with a gentle look on her face. "Yes?" Patrick hesitated for a moment before saying, "I-I love you. Thanks for everything, baby sis." She smiled. "You're welcome, big brother by two weeks. Now go to bed."

She closed the door behind her, Patrick watching her go. He smiled a real smile for the first time in weeks. Then, he closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. And maybe… Maybe, things in that moment were okay.


End file.
